Lullabies Three
by sultal
Summary: Pirates, storms, screams, sadness. Wendy must be brave and sing her boys to sleep. But...no one is left to sing to her. Disney version. COMPLETE. (Lullabies used in this story are credited and posted to YouTube).
1. Lullaby One: Stay Awake

**Lullaby One: Stay Awake**

Storms were rare in Neverland. Rare as rain. But when they came, they attacked with the fury of broken promises and shattered dreams. When they came, they dragged hearts through the mud. When they came, they hurt.

Peter Pan and Wendy Darling ran against the storm. Wendy cradled Tootles. Nibbs and Cubby trailed by her skirt. Peter carried little Michael, Twin One, and Twin Two. John and Slightly crouched behind, shielded from the rain by Peter's shadow and John's umbrella.

Battered by invisible fists, the children stumbled to Hangman's Tree. The wind screamed until the littlest Lost Boys cried. Thunder cracked and lightning whipped, smashing the sky into pieces.

"In!" Peter muscled each Lost Boy into the tunnel entrance. "Come on, I've got you! I've got you! In!" Peter panted, kneading blood from his eyes as Wendy ushered John, Slighly, Cubby, and Nibbs into his arms. Fleetingly, he saw each boy with mouth-fulls, tooth-fulls, and nose-fulls of blood before they disappeared into Hangman's Tree.

It came to the last Lost Boy, Tootles. Always caboose in the lineup and smallest of the troop, Tootles sobbed into Wendy. Peter wiped his bangs. Rain streamed into his eyes as the treetops spurred like grotesque nodding heads.

"Tootles!" Peter yelled, but could not hear himself over the wind. Lighting littered the sky. Branches dirtied the air. "Tootles! Come on buddy! Come here!"

"Tootles!" Wendy moved between flashes of lightning, trying to pass Peter the little boy. Wind reared and leapt onto Wendy's shoulders, driving her down. Mud splattered as Wendy buckled, knees cracking to keep Tootles safe. "Tootles! Dear!"

Peter dove. Cursing the wind, and scooping both Tootles and Wendy into his arms, Peter threw a leg into Hangman's Tree.

Down, down, down they fell. The storm chased them all the way, finally throwing Peter, Wendy, and Tootles onto the floor.

It was dark in Hangman's Tree. The storm wailed outside, furious that the children escaped. Rain poured and wind punched. The treehouse shook, moaning from canopy to roots.

Peter's ears pricked, listening for the Lost Boys. They were there, he could hear every one of them pant. Peter curled his fingers. They dug into Wendy's nightdress. He felt her on top of him, wet with rain and sticky with fear. Peter breathed. Tootles squirmed, squished safely between them.

"Tink…" Peter whispered. He swallowed, searching for his voice. "Tink. Light."

Tinkerbell obliged. Trembling from beneath Peter's red-feathered hat, she sprinkled pixie dust across the room.

Peter turned. He rolled over Wendy and Tootles without letting go. He looked. The Lost Boys looked back.

Peter's heart broke at the sight.

Slightly lost one fox ear, and his real ear was puffy and blue. Nibbs and Cubby broke a nose between them, and their nostrils ran faucets of red. John's eye was black, his glasses were bent, and a cannon sized hole still smoked from his prized top hat. Twin One split his upper lip, Twin Two split the bottom, and dear little Michael couldn't hope to stitch poor Teddy back together again.

Peter exhaled. Bowing his head, he tried to hide a sob but forgot about Tootles and Wendy below. Tootles welled as Peter touched the scratches on his freckled face. Ashamed to cry before the great Peter Pan, Tootles twisted to hide in Wendy's hair.

Peter lifted his eyes to Wendy. Lightning splintered the darkness, tracing where the pirate sliced Wendy's cheek. Into the skin. Across the bone. A breath below her blue, blue eye. Peter stared. Wendy's eyes were luminous in the dark. The red line curved beneath it, cradling her eye and leaking blood down her cheek.

One flick higher. Just one flick up. And Wendy…

Peter felt himself sinking before Wendy spoke.

"Boys. Boys, my dearest, brave, whole-hearted Boys!" Peter gasped. He felt Wendy disappear and heard her voice tremoring in and out. "You are safe! We are safe! Peter Pan has saved us again."

Peter blinked. Hard. Tinkerbell jingled in his ear. He shook his head, knocking her out. "Tink. I'm…I'm up. I'm…Wendy? The boys?"

"Peter?"

Wendy crossed his shoulders with the gentlest touch. Reflexively, Peter grabbed her hand. He grunted as she helped him up.

"I…" again Peter blinked. Shapes and shadows, too crooked to be friendly, blurred and refocused. Heavily, Peter breathed. Something was throbbing in his temple and screaming in his head. Investigating the pain, Peter rubbed the spot. He dipped backwards into Wendy, staring at the blood in his hand.

"Boys!" Wendy stumbled. Nearly toppling under Peter's weight, she swerved into the wall. "Oh dear! Boys! Boys please come help – "

But the Lost Boys had reached the depths of despair. Convinced that their leader was dead, dying, or well on his way, they wailed into a pile of bruises and unhappy thoughts.

"Oh no." Wendy sagged, struggling to hold Peter aloft. "Oh no, oh dear. Boys! Boys you mustn't worry, please don't cry! It's all right! I promise the pirates have gone! Slightly! Nibbs! John! John! Oh. Tinkerbell! Tinkerbell!"

But Tinkerbell had burrowed sadly into her nook. After all, her wings were horribly bowed and painfully bent.

"…oh no."

Wendy lowered, Peter rest on her knees. His neck hung limply from her shoulder, but Peter still gripped Wendy's hand like a vice.

"…help." he breathed incoherently into her sleeve. Wendy turned, listening again to Peter murmur under the storm. "…help me."

Wendy bit her lip. She tasted blood over the magical hidden kiss.

"All right." Wendy whispered. She squeezed Peter's hand. "All right. I will."

And she did. Hobbling into Peter's secret lair, she managed to hoist the boy into his hammock. Then, smoothing her skirt and brushing her hair, Wendy tended to her boys. The storm howled at her pursuits, but Wendy ignored the wind and rain. She kindled the fire. She dried all the tears. She mopped up the blood. She untwisted Tinkerbell's wing. She patched every bruise, every bleed, every scrape, and every sore. She fluffed the pillows. She readied the beds. And she debated on telling a story but, afraid of where her unhappy thoughts might take it, she decided that the boys had best rather go to bed.

"Bed?!"

"I'm not going to bed!" Slighly informed her, legs crossed over his foxy tail. "Not until Pan's well!"

"Slightly – " Wendy began, trying to replace the sheets.

"My finger hurts!" Michael wept, displaying his swollen thumb.

"Wendy, I feel sick." Nibbs whimpered, curled in his bunk.

John raised a feeble hand. "Dido. Falling asleep seems a chore and a half."

"And I can't go to bed now!" Cubby jumped as lighting striped the walls. "Not in this storm!"

"Dear, you can snuggle under the covers." soothed Wendy, patting Cubby's cheek. She turned as Twin One and Twin Two tugged her skirt.

"How do we know the pirates are gone?" Twin One cried, seizing her leg.

"What if they followed our tracks?" cried Twin Two, seizing her other.

Wendy faltered. With difficulty, she settled onto the bed. "Boys…" she stammered as Tootles crawled into her lap. "Boys, the storm will have covered our tracks. And the pirates are not clever enough to – "

Thunder clapped, interrupting Wendy's speech. Lighting threw shadows across the room, and the children's' imaginations turned them into pirates.

The Lost Boys screamed. Running for cover, they swarmed behind Wendy. And Wendy, despite her practicality, believed for a moment that pirates were lurking with monsters under the beds.

"Boys!" she scolded, partially to herself. "Boys! This won't do. Peter is hurting, but he will be well with sleep. I know you don't wish him ill! You're good boys, aren't you?"

"Yes. But –"

"Captain Hook is far, far, ever so far away!" Wendy continued, thankful the boys were too rambunctious too notice her shudder. Deftly, she touched the burning cut beneath her eye. "And so are his pirates. That I promise you. So…there is no need to be frightened – "

"—but—"

"—no need for tomahawks, clubs, arrows, or swords – "

"—but, but –"

"—and no need –" Wendy pleaded as Michael and Tootles squirmed back into her arms "—for anything but bed!"

"Mother!" Swinging from his bedpost, Slightly spoke for his crew. "Mother! We can't! We can't with those stupid pirates and bully storm! We just can't go to bed!"

Wendy bristled as the Lost Boys chorused Slightly's cry. The thunder and lightning had another fit, and Wendy softened as her boys gathered around, pressing against her for safety and care.

Sighing, Wendy balanced Tootles and Michael in her lap. Gently rocking, she gazed contemplatively at nothing at all.

Then, clever Wendy had a thought.

"Very well…" Wendy said as the boys pointed toy weapons at imaginary foes. Deeply, she breathed in Michael's downy hair. "…perhaps it would help…if I sang a song? A little lullaby? To pass the time until dawn?"

"Huh?" Slightly turned and The Lost Boys cocked their heads. "A lullaby? Now?"

"Yes."

"For night?"

"Slightly? Whenever else?"

Thunder boomed. Lightning cracked. Slightly raised his sword, just a smidge. "Pan doesn't do it like that. Lullaby at night seems…strange. But…." Slightly bit his lip. He cringed at a second thunder plea. "…maybe this once. If it makes you happy, Mother."

Wendy cradled Michael and Tootles against her chin.

"Yes." she said, catching a small flicker from Peter Pan's secret lair. She paused, but the flicker vanished between lightning strikes. "Yes. It would make me very happy, indeed. Are you ready?"

Slightly nodded. So did the boys. They were taut, aiming for the storm. "Mm-hmm. Go ahead, Mother. We're not going to bed."

Wendy nodded. "I know…you must stay awake. Fight the storm. My brave, brave, brave Lost Boys…."

Wendy cleared her throat. Stroking Tootle's costume and Michael's head, she softly sang. It was a lullaby Wendy's mother had cast once, easily as an enchantress casts a spell. It was lovely, haunting, unhurried, and tempting.

" _Stay awake, don't rest your head….don't lie down upon your bed…while the moon drifts in the skies…"_

Wendy glanced. She continued carefully as Slightly slowly lowered his sword.

"… _stay awake_ …."

Slightly's eyelashes fluttered.

"…. _don't close your eyes_."

Michael and Tootles drifted into Wendy's arms. Nibb's rabbit ears sagged over messy blankets. John removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Twin One and Twin Two sighed dreamily as Cubby yawned. And Slightly, blinking less and less, kneeled onto the bed.

Delicately, Wendy picked her way through the boys.

" _Though the world is fast asleep_ …"

She laid Michael and Tootles aside John's chest.

"… _though your pillow's soft and deep_ …"

She drew covers over Cubby, Twin One, and Twin Two.

"… _you're not sleepy as you seem_ …"

She caressed Nibb's floppy ears.

"… _stay awake_ …"

Gently, ever so gently, she guided Slightly into his bed.

"… _don't nod and dream_ …"

She smoothed Slightly's hair.

"… _stay_ …. _awake_ …" Wendy whispered, backing silently to Peter's lair, " _don't_ … _nod_ …"

Lovingly, Wendy cast a final glance at her slumbering boys.

"… _and dream_."

Dreams puffed into the air, dancing over the Lost Boys. Smiling, Wendy lingered, just to watch. She had never seen anything so peaceful. So pure.

Suddenly, a hand clamped her ankle.

Wendy jumped. Frightened, she covered her mouth. She looked down.

Peter, slumped on the floor, gazed up at her with midnight eyes.

"A lullaby at night?"

* * *

 **sultal's note: This chapter's lullaby = "Stay Awake" from Mary Poppins. I will be posting the lullabies used at the completion of this story, on YouTube. This story is worth reading with the music playing.**

 **Inspired by LadyAnne23's love of Mary Poppins, and also by the kid that still asks me to sing him asleep in times of hurt.**


	2. Lullaby Two: Somewhere

**sultal's note: This is my favorite lullaby (yes I HAVE one) called "Somewhere" by Sean McCann. I MADE A DISNEY YOUTUBE VIDEO SO YOU CAN HEAR IT! Go to my YouTube page (sultal-wf) OR search this on Google:** Lullaby Two (Disney fanfiction chapter): "Somewhere" **You should see the video picture cover of mulan crying. :(**

 **Don't worry, it's entertaining! Lots of sad Disney moments corresponding to the music.**

* * *

 **Lullaby Two: Somewhere**

"Peter!" Dropping, Wendy touched Peter's head. Her fingers trembled over his mangled temple, still bleeding from Captain Hook's mark. "Oh Peter." Wendy pressed her palm over the spot. "Peter, you've fallen from bed."

"No…" Peter murmured, leaning back as Wendy tended his wound. He winced as she dabbed a warm cloth, disinfecting the broken skin. "No…" he repeated, reaching to assess the wound has she worked. "No. I came to help."

Wendy brushed his hand away. He reached up. She lowered it again.

Peter grinned. "That bad?"

Wendy did not answer. Holding Peter's head, she compressed the cloth. "Help?" she asked, revisiting Peter's excuse for falling out of bed. "Help me?"

Peter mumbled an affirmation. Vein throbbing against the cloth, he closed his eyes. "Yes. Those Lost Boys. Misbehaving. Arguing with you so." Peter frowned. "Blockheads."

Wendy wrung the cloth. She grimaced as pink water drained from the center.

"Well…that was very gallant, Peter." Wendy said, replacing the cloth. She held it firm. The bleeding had not stopped. Pushing a thumb over the spot, Wendy spoke to distract herself from the seeping blood. "Very gallant. But the boys meant no harm, you see. They are good boys. They were only a little frightened, what with the storm and…well with everything along with everything that was anything frightening tonight. And…"

Wendy peeked under the cloth. Peter's skin lifted, sticking to the fabric like chopped meat.

"— and little boys have large imaginations." Wendy stammered, words racing against her spinning heart. Desperately, she pressed the cloth, begging the bleeding to stop. "But nothing a lullaby could not calm. And goodness! Certainly no reason for you to fall out of bed! The boys are asleep now, and you should be too – "

"—Wendy what aren't you telling me?"

Peter opened his eyes. They were black. Blacker than the stormy night. Without blinking, he stared.

Wendy maintained her composure but cowered inside.

"What…" she began, gently circling the wound, "…what makes you think I'm not – "

Peter laughed before she could finish. It was weak, but sincere.

"Wendy." he tapped his lips. "You're talking too much. That either means I'm clever, you're happy, you're excited, you're nervous, or…" Peter's eyes drifted to the cut on Wendy's cheek. "…or you're scared."

Wendy bit her lip. She still tasted blood.

"….it…" she whispered.

Peter watched. Patiently, he waited.

Wendy took a shuddering breath. "Where Captain Hook hurt you…it…" she met Peter with apologetic eyes. "…it won't stop bleeding."

Relieved, Peter sighed. "Is that all?"

"Is that _all_?" Wendy exclaimed. "This is quite a lot of awful _all_!"

Peter shook his head. "It doesn't hurt."

Wendy knew better. "That is a lie, Peter Pan."

Peter pointed. "You are hurting. Yes?"

Wendy stopped. "No." she managed, returning to Peter's wound. "No. It is only a scratch. I quite forgot about it. Now…now please. Just hold still – "

"Now you are lying." Peter said, catching her wrist. He winced, pulling away the cloth. Breathing hard, he stared at Wendy's red cheek. "You shouldn't lie to me Wendy. You should let me take care of you."

"Peter –" Wendy struggled, pink water dripping under Peter's fingers and down her arm. "Peter, you mustn't – "

"—you should have let me take care of the boys!"

"— Peter – "

"—because I couldn't take care of them in the storm. I...I couldn't. They got hurt. They _all got hurt_!"

"—oh no!" Wendy protested as Peter choked. "Peter! Peter please don't panic – "

"—I couldn't take care of them against the pirates!"

"—Peter!" Wendy dropped the cloth. She reached as tears rolled down Peter's cheeks. "Peter! Peter please!"

"And I couldn't take care of you!"

Cupping Wendy's jaw, Peter cried. "When the storm and pirates attacked! I couldn't take care of you! They pulled your hair! They tied your neck! They cut your cheek! They hurt you! They hurt you! And I! And I! AND —I—I—I!"

Peter screamed. He screamed like a wild animal trapped in a cage, unable to break free. He screamed like a child, scared of the dark and taunted by monsters under the bed. He screamed like a hero, watching his princess die and kingdom fall.

The Lost Boys stirred as Peter screamed with the storm. But before Wendy could act, Peter Pan did something utterly stunning.

He collapsed. Eyes soaked in her nightdress, Peter Pan sobbed into Wendy's lap.

Wendy stared. Horrified and heartbroken, she tried to touch Peter's head. She couldn't. Peter – the great Peter Pan of her stories – had shattered like glass. Wendy trembled, afraid that if she touched Peter, he would explode.

"P…p…p…"

Magnetized by his anguish, Wendy's hands lowered. Gingerly, her fingers disappeared into his messy, red hair.

"…Peter…" she whispered, "…Peter…you saved us. You did. That pirate…the pirate…." Wendy suddenly felt her own tears, brimming at the memory. "…he was going…he…Captain Hook told him….to blind…to blind me….to blind me so…."

Wendy's cheek burned. "…so I could never see you again." She finished, cut tingling under her eye.

Peter gasped. Frantically, he clenched Wendy's waist.

"But…I'm fine." Wendy forced a smile. Soothingly, he stroked Peter's hair. The red fibers prickled under her touch. "I'm fine. The boys are fine. But…you…"

Wendy paused. She waited for the thunder and lightning to elapse. Then, she whispered in the dark.

"But you….Peter Pan… are not fine."

The thunder and lightning cheered, laughing wickedly at the boy's tears and the girl who held hers back.

The fire dulled into swelling embers. Hangman's Tree darkened, save for lightning painting ugly faces on the shadows. Wendy held Peter as he held her desperately back. Helplessly, she listened to him cry, wishing she could take all his unhappy thoughts.

Outside the storm rejoiced.

It was a long way until dawn.

Then Wendy had a second clever thought. It embarrassed her. She was sure Peter would laugh. But she didn't know what else to do.

"You…" Wendy brushed Peter's hair. "Slightly said…you think lullabies are strange. But strange only at night."

Wendy waited. She tilted her head. "Peter?"

Peter swallowed a tear. He nodded.

Wendy inhaled. "Well…might I try one? Now?" In a small voice, Wendy whispered a prayer. "Perhaps it will help you Peter, to brave the night?"

Wendy waited. Her heart fluttered as Peter squeezed her dress. Then, haggardly, he breathed into her lap.

"...Wendy…help…"

For the second time that awful night, Wendy Darling promised to be brave.

"All right." Wendy whispered, smoothing the fiery tufts behind Peter's ear. She rest a hand upon his head. "All right. I will."

Wendy began to sing. She sang a second lullaby, composed by a tortured soul who pitied others instead of himself. It was a powerful song, written so every uplifting note was harmonized inside one of sorrow.

" _Hush now baby, don't you cry._

 _Let no tear fall from your eye._

 _Too soon you'll know…_

 _Where tears come from, and where they go_ …"

Wendy breathed. Then, she melted the storm with her voice.

" _Somewhere a heart is breaking_

 _A ship is lost at sea_

 _A soul is being forsaken_

 _People fighting to be free..._

…S _omewhere a star is falling_

 _A bird's afraid to fly_

 _A lonesome lover's calling_

 _So baby dry your eyes."_

The storm sighed, broken by Wendy's magic spell.

And Peter Pan, curled in her lap, was fast asleep…

…leaving Wendy Darling to brave the night alone.


	3. Lullaby Three: You'll Be in My Heart

**sultal's note: Well instead of make my own video like the last chapter, YOU HAVE to watch the YouTube video that inspired this.**

 **Google search** You'll Be In My Heart- Peter Pan/ Wendy **and you are going to want to pick the 1:27 version of the song (where the female starts singing and then Phil Collins takes it to the hoop). It is slower, simpler...and it is adorable. Video artist:** alwyssmi7

* * *

 **Lullaby Three: You'll Be in My Heart**

Peter sighed. He was awake, but his body was still asleep. One by one his senses peeled from the sleep rhythm, gradually gaining awareness. Resisting, Peter turned his head, half realizing and half enjoying the soft fingers skimming his hair. He turned again, relaxing against the warm body supporting his head. He breathed, settling with the pace of the stomach moving against his ear.

 _I think_ _Wendy was right._ Peter thought, curling his fingers in and out. He shifted, feeling the hand on his head. The hand covered his gouged temple. Peter waited for his senses to feel and his brain to interpret. Captain Hook's mark was sore, but only a little.

 _Yes. Wendy was right._ Peter thought again. _The lullaby helped_. _But…_ Sleepily, Peter opened his eyes… _did Wendy know she'd made a mistake? Lullabies weren't for night. Lullabies were for…_

Peter stopped. He gazed at his free hand. He moved his fingers. Incomprehensively, he stared at the blue fabric, rolling over his fingertips.

"Wendy?!"

Peter's heart leapt higher than he could ever fly. Peter tried to follow, but the reactive movement surprised his poor, injured head. Wrenched out of sleep, unidentifiable frights and thrills bubbled where his heart use to be.

Then, Peter noticed Wendy.

Still alarmed by her proximity, Peter was nevertheless intrigued. Head cocked, he reached a finger to her cheek.

He traced the cut. He traced it all the way from the edge of her ear to the corner of her eye. It was dried. But she hadn't cleaned the blood. Except…

Peter squinted. Except for watery lines trickled into the red. Peter contemplated. Then, suddenly understanding, he touched his head.

"You cried yourself to sleep."

Wendy's brow knit as if in silent response. Cringing, Peter lifted his head. Wendy was crunched in a corner, barricaded by his body. Her bearing was downcast and her visage was worn. Peter peered closer. Gently, he touched her lid.

She flinched. Her eyes were moving. Her shoulders caved.

Wendy was having a nightmare.

"Wendy…" Peter lifted an arm. He tried to prop on one elbow but immediately buckled, weakened by yesterday's battle.

Helpless, Peter lay. Wendy's warmth was comforting, but Peter wished a hundred times he could replace her nightmare with a wonderful dream.

"And I know what it would be…" Peter murmured, rubbing a hand across Wendy's cheek. He smiled, liberally letting his fingers play with her hair. "…I would give you a dream about stars. I would give you the power to fly without pixie dust. And you would soar with the stars, whenever you pleased. Then back down you would float, little Wendy…dancing with the wind…sparkling with star dust…"

Peter sighed. Earnestly, he wished Wendy's nightmare away.

"If only I could help. If only I could – "

Peter paused.

He had an idea.

But Peter, unlike Wendy, did not consider it very clever.

Because, even though dawn was near…

….Peter did not think he could sing a lullaby to ease Wendy from her sleep.

He could not sing. Not like Wendy. She sang like a bird.

…but…he had never… _tried_.

Peter considered. He looked at Wendy. Shyly, he looked away, even though she was asleep.

He couldn't! She would laugh!

But…she was hurting. And…she had sung a lullaby for the boys. And a special, beautiful lullaby, just for him.

Tentatively, Peter glanced at Wendy again.

Well…there was one song…a song the fairies sang to greet him in Neverland…too long ago to remember.

Peter hesitated. Then, very cautiously, he stammered and sung.

" _C...come stop your crying….it will…be all right."_

Peter stopped. Fear clamped his throat. Lifting a hand, he rubbed Wendy's cheek.

Instantly, like magic, he felt stronger.

" _Just take my hand_ …" Peter continued. Obediently, he took Wendy's hand, still placed on his head. "…. _hold it tight_."

Wendy's stirred. Peter grew angry. He tried harder, speaking directly to the nightmare tormenting his girl.

" _I will protect you, from all around you…._ "

He caressed Wendy's lips.

" _I will be here. Don't you cry."_

His fingers rest on the magical spot.

And then, Peter smiled.

" _For one so small_!" he laughed, remembering a thousand adventures where Wendy, little Wendy, surprised him. " _You seem so strong!"_

Peter rose. Pushing away the pain, he gathered Wendy against his chest. " _My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm_."

Peter bowed his head. Nose in her ribbon, he stroked Wendy's hair.

 _This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here…"_

Standing, Peter ducked from his lair. He cradled Wendy as the nightmare passed.

"… _don't you cry_."

Peter flew, topping two, three, and four, flights at a time. He raced upwards, beating the dawn to the highest branch of Hangman's Tree.

But despite his energy and despite his hope, Peter let his voice fall gently.

" _'Cause you'll be in my heart…no matter what they say_ …."

Peter filled his face with the morning sun.

" _You'll be here in my heart…_ "

Peter sighed. Soul mended by his little seamstress, Peter smiled down at her.

Wendy smiled back.

" _…_ _always_."

Peter grinned.

"And this…" Peter said, indicating to the dawn. He wrapped himself in Wendy's hug. "…is when lullabies are supposed to be sung. Not for night. But for day. Little, kind, brave Wendy of mine."

 _So..._

 _Who was right, Wendy or Peter you say?_

 _Should lullabies be sung for night or day?_

 _Well, I would pick either the former or latter._

 _Because in the end, does it really much matter?_

 _Whether you seize the day, or brave the night,_

 _A lullaby will strengthen every fight._

 **The End**

* * *

 **sultal's note: Okay fluff people - your request for romance was heard, accepted. Annnd cheesy poem with a moral to end? Yes. I totally went there.**

 **keep writing.**


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